David and David
by LAKenobi
Summary: What happens when David McNorris meets Dave Williams/Dave Dash? What is their connection? What does it mean for LA's self-destructive deputy district attorney and the folks of Wisteria Lane? SPOILERS: up to end of season 5 of DH and season 2 of Boomtown.
1. Prologue

**Title:** David and David

**Author:** L.A.K.

**Characters:** BOOMTOWN - David McNorris, Andrea Little, Jack McNorris, Dr Michael Hirsch. DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES - Mary Alice Young, Mike Delfino, Susan Mayer, Katherine Mayfair, MJ Delfino, Edie Britt, Lila Dash, Paige Dash, the art teacher. OC - Tina Williams-Dash, Lawrence Dash, Sarah McNorris, Kerry Fitzpatrick, Dr Riviera.

**Summary:** What happens when David McNorris meets Dave Williams/Dave Dash? What is their connection? What does it mean for LA's self-destructive deputy district attorney and the residents of Wisteria Lane? Boomtown/Desperate Housewives crossover, more or less AU by default. Spoilers to the end of season 5 of DH and season 2 of Boomtown (I know the timelines don't match up but it's fan fiction and AU).

**Disclaimer:** _Boomtown_ was created by Graham Yost and produced by NBC, while credit for _Desperate Housewives_ goes to Marc Cherry and ABC. The wonderful Neal McDonough also deserves special mention for breathing life into David McNorris and Dave Williams. The fic title is a nod to the pop duo that released the 1986 album _Boomtown_.

**A/N:** I've tried to combine the storytelling devices of the two shows. In classic Boomtown style, the story will be pieced together using the viewpoints of different characters instead of being told in chronological order. The omniscient ghost of Mary Alice will do some narrating as per DH. But by the end of the story you'll know everything you need to.

* * *

**Prologue**

It was like staring back at himself through a time warp.

The drab room was empty, but for a man sitting mutely behind a single table, restrained by his heavy grey straitjacket. The guard at the door nodded curtly, and David McNorris edged closer to the table, willing the lump in his throat to disappear.

McNorris couldn't see the dishevelled man's face, and wasn't sure he wanted to. The patient had his head bowed, apparently transfixed by an invisible speck on the table. His pale hair, with flecks of grey, had grown out into a knotted mop that dangled from his head in drapes.

McNorris squeezed his eyes shut and gulped hard. He remembered the day he hit rock bottom. Waking up from a drunken blackout and seeing the blood on his broken headlights. Being marched through the police station. Staring at his pitiful reflection in the glass of the interrogation room and watching his whole life flash before him.

He opened his eyes again. The man before him was the epitome of rock bottom. McNorris could take some cold comfort from knowing that he wasn't the most pathetic guy in the room.

"Dave Williams?" McNorris' voice sounded coarse and foreign to his ears, as if he was speaking from the other end of a crackling phone line. "Or do you prefer Dash?"

McNorris thought he saw Williams' body tense but this whole place made him question his sanity and he couldn't really be sure of anything.

"My name is David McNorris," he continued. "I'm a deputy district attorney from Los Angeles."

Williams began to rock slightly in his seat but offered no other sign that he had heard McNorris.

McNorris cleared his throat. "I-I grew up in Boston. You and I… share the same biological father."

Williams stopped rocking. A second passed before he slowly lifted his head towards the intruder in his room.

McNorris saw the ash stubble on Williams' gaunt face, the unsettlingly vacant half-smile. But it was the pale, icy blue eyes – so like his own – that would be seared into his memory for the rest of his life.


	2. Mary Alice Young, David McNorris

**A/N:** For those who aren't familiar with the Desperate Housewives format, Mary Alice is basically the all-seeing ghost of a dead housewife who now narrates the show from the grave. Her POV here briefly recaps some of the relevant events that occurred on Boomtown and season 5 of DH. On the other hand, if it's Boomtown you're unfamiliar with, just think of each POV as pieces of a jigsaw puzzle; the picture will slowly come together.

* * *

_**MARY ALICE YOUNG**_

_Actions have consequences. Your wife leaves you after finding out about your affair with another woman. Your decision to enter a relationship with your best friend's ex strains your relationship with this old friend._

_Sometimes actions have ironic consequences. Like the decision to spare your wife's life, which causes her to run out of the house and drive into a power pole to her death._

_Sometimes the unforeseen consequences of your actions turn out to be your worst nightmare. Like when a car accident not only results in the breakdown of your marriage, but also an attempt on your family's life by a grieving widower._

_But who would have thought a family reunion in Boston could result in an innocent little boy like MJ Delfino fighting for his life in a school playground in Fairview?_

_

* * *

  
_

**DAVID MCNORRIS**

David flicked on a dim light as he entered his house, relieved at the opportunity to relax and unwind after a long day. Dumping his briefcase on the kitchen bench, he was about to pour himself a drink when a familiar gruff voice rang out from behind him.

"How about a hug for your old man?"

David turned to meet the piercing blue eyes of Jack McNorris, standing 10 feet away from him with his arms outstretched. "Pop, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you've picked up some manners in sunny California," Jack replied sarcastically. "Can't a father come visit his son without being interrogated?"

_Not this father_, David thought, but he forced himself to smile and stepped forward to embrace his dad. David pulled away when he realised that, not only was his crusty old man suddenly asking for hugs, he hadn't helped himself to a single drop of his son's Irish whiskey stash.

"What's going on, Pop? Is everything okay?"

Jack stepped back and sighed. "Your mother made me see a doctor last week. Turns out I have liver disease."

David gaped at the man who, for as long as he could remember had always been able to fix everything with minimal effort while those around him struggled. Suddenly the Fixer seemed small, pale, weak. "Why didn't you call me, Pop? What's the prognosis? Do you need money? Treatment?"

Jack waved his son to silence. "Look, don't worry about me, David Francis. A McNorris always lands on his feet and this'll be no different. I just need to ask you a favour."

"Well, what is it?"

"When you were growing up," said Jack, "I wasn't always faithful to your mother."

David didn't even bother trying to suppress his incredulous laughter. "Yeah, I know, Pop. I learned from the master."

Jack regarded his son sharply for a moment then sighed. "Well, there were certain by-products of that. I've never told any of you, but… I have another son to someone other than your mother."

David grabbed the edge of the bench behind him to stop himself falling over. "What?! When? Who?"

"By sheer coincidence, his name is David too," said Jack, smiling humourlessly. "His mother was a sweet girl by the name of Tina Williams. A guy called Lawrence Dash married Tina and raised the boy as his own."

David McNorris was rarely lost for words but there were always exceptions to every rule. All he knew was that he could really use a Jameson right now. Trying to avoid eye contact with his father, he quietly asked: "What do you want me to do?"

Jack placed his hands on his son's shoulders and stared right into his eyes, forcing David to meet them. "Find him. Find Dave Dash and help me make things right."


	3. Mike Delfino, Andrea Little

**A/N:** In the season 5 finale of Desperate Housewives, Mike was shown at the altar but it wasn't revealed who his bride was. Because season 6 doesn't air in several countries (including mine) until next year and not everyone likes spoilers, I've deliberately left her identity ambiguous.

The italicised quotes in Andrea's POV are from the Boomtown episode "Coyote". I've also put her in a pairing that was hinted at but never developed during the series.

Thanks to leat79 on FF, and tpeej and gatechic on LJ for the feedback on my previous chapters. :)

* * *

**MIKE DELFINO**

"How much were those flowers?" "Why is that important?" "I just want to know how much you paid for them." "What, so we're measuring our worth by flowers now?" "Why are you here anyway?" "I care about him too."

Ethereal voices swirled around Mike Delfino's head. He was drowsy, floating, grappling for consciousness. _Where am I?_ he wondered. Certainly not at home. Probably not heaven either, judging by those bickering angels in his sleep. He groaned.

"Look, he's waking up."

Mike dragged his eyes open at the familiar voice and tried to blink the faces of Susan and Katherine into focus. The room began swimming in front of him and Mike closed his eyes again, drawing in deep breaths. But even in his groggy state, the tension in the room was palpable. He sensed at least one of the women in the room could have been severely injured if he'd waited much longer to regain consciousness.

"Mike," Katherine's voice whispered, "Can you talk? How are you feeling?"

"Mm…a little…tired…dizzy," Mike heard himself murmur as he slowly opened his eyes again.

"You're in the hospital." Susan. "Do you remember what happened?"

Mike grimaced. "Mm…not much…I…uh…yeah…I think I… I was working… it was getting dark…" His frowned, shut his eyes, and tried to collect his thoughts...

As the sun began to set and dark clouds gathered in the skies above Fairview, Mike stifled a yawn. It had been a long day and the houses zooming past him were becoming a blur. But at least things were getting back to normal.

It seemed like an eternity since Mike had been at the airport, waiting for the plane that would take him and Katherine to Las Vegas to be married. His plans had rapidly changed when he realised his new best buddy Dave Williams was really David Dash, the man Mike and Susan had left widowed after a horrific car accident a few years earlier. When Mike lay down at night, that horrible moment came rushing back; jolting his heart, bathing him in cold sweat, and keeping him awake.

Sometimes when Mike was sitting on the couch, or working, or tending his garden, he found himself back at that intersection on the night Dave had almost succeeded in avenging the Dash family. Mike had desperately offered to take Susan and MJ's place in Dave's revenge plan, and so Dave had tried to kill him in a copycat car accident on the same road where Paige and Lila Dash had died. But both men survived. And with the smell of burnt rubber in the air and their son safe in their arms, Mike and Susan had shared an intense kiss by the roadside.

A couple of months later, he was all dolled up at Fairview Presbyterian Church. Take Two. Mike glanced down at the wedding band on his finger and wondered, not for the first time, if he'd made the right decision.

He pulled up at an old house on the outskirts of town. It looked rundown and abandoned; he shuddered to think what kind of faulty plumbing they'd have there. At least it was supposed to be his last job of the day.

He was about to knock on the door when he was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Are you Mike Delfino?"

Startled, Mike spun around. There was a solidly built figure, perhaps about six feet tall, standing in front of him in a grey suit; his face obscured by a hat and sunglasses.

"Yeah, that's me."

Mike didn't have time to blink before the other man's fist slammed into his face.

He swore furiously and grabbed his nose, feeling hot blood pooling in his hand. "Who the hell are you?!"

The man responded with a boot to his gut.

Mike felt the steely concrete pressing against his face and the taste of blood in his mouth before another blow pounded into him and everything went black.

* * *

**ANDREA LITTLE**

Andrea scrolled through the new photos on her laptop and smiled. Ever the drama queen, even she had to admit it was nice being able to date someone openly instead of stealing each forbidden moment together during lunch or before and after work.

"_How long have you and McNorris been sleeping together?"_

But even now, her heart still missed a beat every time she recalled what Michael Hirsch had said to her the day they met.

"_I read faces. I'm good at it, it's a talent I have. I normally wouldn't have said anything but we don't have a lot of time and I wouldn't want his obvious dislike of me to infect you."_

Feeling sick to her stomach and horribly exposed, she had managed to sound sufficiently contemptuous in her reply: _"I think I'm capable of disliking you all on my own."_

Michael then admitted he had been bluffing about his flair for face reading and just wanted to see how Andrea would react. When the case had been wrapped up, he'd asked her out and now a few casual lunches had graduated into more intimate dinners, and eventually a romantic getaway last weekend. But she was acutely aware of the wall she put up around herself to avoid making a commitment, and so was Michael.

Andrea rested her cursor on one of the photos. It was an intimate snap; Michael standing shirtless in the bathroom, his chin covered in shaving cream, pulling a hilarious cartoon face as he spotted her camera. Andrea sighed. They weren't getting any younger and he didn't deserve to put up with her continuously dragging her feet.

There was no logical reason for it; Michael was smart, passionate, stimulating, and nothing like her destructive alcoholic father. Surely this was the kind of guy she'd been waiting her whole life for.

She wondered what Michael would do if he knew how close to the mark he'd been about her relationship with David McNorris.

The doorbell rang, shaking Andrea from her reverie.

"I'll be right there!" she called out, pushing the lid down.

The doorbell rang again impatiently.

Andrea rolled her eyes and opened the door. As if on cue, the neat golden hair, fiery blue eyes, and proud smirk were waiting for her. "David… what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you." He flashed the winning smile that had melted her heart years ago. "And… I need your help."

Andrea responded with a wry smile of her own and after a moment's consideration, invited him in. She had pledged to always be his friend after all and, to his credit, he had managed to pack himself into rehab before he'd really killed someone. "You look good, David. So what's this about?"

"My father paid me a visit earlier tonight," he explained. "He told me he has cirrhosis and I have a half-brother."

"What?"

"Yeah, his name is David Dash. Probably conceived somewhere between visits to the widow Dooley and Sharon Flanagan, though I'm sure Pop lost track of them all along the way. Grew up in the Boston area. I could have met him at baseball tryouts and not even known it. I was hoping you could help me locate him."

Andrea winced slightly at the mention of Jack McNorris' affairs, wondering what she had really meant to David. Had their first kiss been any more than a conquest for him? When Marian left him, had David begged Andrea to take him back because he wanted to be with her, or because he just wanted to screw something that moved? "What makes you think I can help you?" she asked.

"You're a reporter with lots of connections," he replied.

"You're a lawyer and politician with lots of connections," she pointed out.

David tried to blind her with his pearly whites again. Evidently he was counting himself back in the game, Andrea thought. "Well, to tell you the truth, I've been thinking about you a lot," he said. He took a step towards her and gently slipped his fingers through her hair.

Andrea closed her eyes as his hand caressed her cheek. "David, please…"

"There won't be all that sneaking around, jumping every time the phone rings or the wind blows," he murmured. "Marian and I are finalising the divorce. And I'm sober now. I'm ready to start over with a clean slate."

Andrea closed her hand around his and slowly moved it away. "I'm anything but a clean slate for you, David. And we're not good for each other. And I have my own daddy issues."

David clenched his jaw and turned away. "Damn it, I'm not your father, Andrea."

Andrea could feel tears prickling her eyes and began to pace the room until she found herself at a safe distance. "I… I'm kind of seeing someone," she said softly. "He's probably the only guy I've ever had in my life who didn't make me feel worse about myself."

She glanced up to find David staring at her like he'd been punched in the mouth. "Well, I appreciate the honesty, Ms Little…"

"David—"

David held up his hand. "I shouldn't have come here," he said simply, and let himself out.

The door clicked shut. Andrea cursed fiercely to herself.

A few minutes later, she heard the key turn in the lock. She brushed her eyes with her hands, making sure they were dry, before turning around to greet Michael as he came through the door.

"Hey honey, how was your day?"

"Good…" Michael raised an eyebrow, shut the door behind him and made his way over to her. "But you're not. What's the matter, Andrea?"

As his hands touched her, she finally broke down, crying freely into his chest. Michael held her silently.

"I'm sorry," Andrea whispered between sobs.

"It's okay," said Michael, "Why don't you tell me about it?"

Andrea nodded but the words caught in her throat. Was it time to put her heart on the line and reveal all? She didn't think Michael would judge her for an adulterous affair but what about misleading him? Did the affair even matter now? Wasn't it a private issue between Andrea and David?

When she didn't speak, Michael continued: "I saw David McNorris driving away from here before. Does this have anything to do with him?"

Andrea froze. Did he know? She slowly broke the hug and looked up. "He wants my help," she said at last. She motioned for Michael to sit and took her place on the couch. "But maybe I should start at the beginning."


	4. Dave Williams, Jack McNorris

**A/N:** Thanks to leat79 for reviewing my last chapter.

Time now to take a little trip back into the past, or as Mary Alice might say: _"It had been a long journey for David Williams and Jack McNorris. And though it began years ago, they remembered every step of it..."_

* * *

**DAVE WILLIAMS**

Dave Dash was dead. He had had a beautiful wife, a perfect little girl, a good job and a nice house in the suburbs, and it had all been cruelly ripped away from him in an instant. Dave Dash was proof that the great American dream was founded on manure. Life was not worth living.

Dave Williams was born a few weeks after Dash had been drugged into submission. He bought himself a nice tuxedo and hauled himself to a hotel to celebrate, where a stunning woman with hair as blond as that of Dave Dash's daughter caught his eye. Williams quickly introduced himself and asked the lady to dance.

Over the following months, Dave Williams and Edie Britt shared many dances and dinners, and she began to open up about her past. Edie prided herself on her strength and independence, and Williams loved that about her, but he also knew his charisma could conquer anything. It had to. Edie had told him she was from Fairview, and Dave Williams needed to pry as much information from her as he could.

Tonight they were snuggled up together in front of the heater with a bottle of fine wine, as Edie confessed more of her sins to the backdrop of the howling wind and rain outside.

"I guess I wasn't the nicest friend to those people on Wisteria Lane," Edie murmured, her head nestled against his chest.

"It was a long time ago, Edie," Williams replied, kissing her hair. "I know you and that's not who you are anymore. You are a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate woman."

Edie looked up at him wistfully. "Dave, what did I ever do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?"

Williams practised his best smile. "We were both in the right place at the right time."

Edie kissed him before settling herself back down on his chest. "I know I've mentioned my differences with Susan. But I never told you about what I did with her boyfriend, Mike Delfino."

Icy fingers began clawing up and down Williams' spine and he knew it was Dave Dash flailing about inside him, trying to get out.

He barely heard as Edie continued: "I can't believe I tried to take advantage of someone with amnesia!"

Williams leaned forward to drain his glass of wine and squeezed Edie's body against him to fight the chill that had suddenly overtaken him. "It's okay. Tell me all about it," he said. And she did.

That night, after Edie had fallen asleep, Dave Dash told Williams his plan.

The next day, Dave Williams bought an engagement ring.

* * *

**JACK MCNORRIS**

Having told David Francis about his long lost half-brother, Jack McNorris called his wife; assured her he felt fine; told her their eldest son was doing well in Los Angeles; and then climbed into the spare bed and cried.

Three decades ago, as the supervisor of public works in his hometown, Jack McNorris had been a very powerful figure. Ol' Jackie Boy, as he was affectionately known, was a working class antihero but to those in high enough places, he was the Fixer. If they needed anything done, if they needed anyone to shut up and disappear, Jack was the man to call. The average Joe on the street wouldn't even know his name, but Jack McNorris was the man in the shadows turning the wheels. He could make or break a career. He was tough, old school, and won debates with his fists.

As he fell into a deep sleep, Ol' Jackie Boy was 35 years younger again, driving down the block with 8-year-old David Francis by his side in the front passenger seat. Jack looked down at the fair-haired boy in his Red Sox jersey and the baseball glove he wore to sleep every night. He smiled proudly and ruffled David's hair.

They pulled up to an apartment building. "Stay here," Jack told him. "I've just gotta see this guy about work."

Tina Williams Dash was waiting at the top of the stairs. Wordlessly, Jack slipped a few hundred dollar notes into her palm.

"Thanks," said Tina, pocketing the cash. Her speaking aloud was usually a sign the apartment was empty and Jack risked a quick peck on her cheek. She smiled almost sadly. "Listen, Larry's taken the boys to the record store so they'll be gone a couple of hours at least. Do you want to come in for a scotch?"

Jack accepted the invitation and followed Tina into the apartment where, nine years earlier, she had told him she was pregnant with his child. He was already leading multiple lives then: Supervisor of Public Works, Fixer, husband, father, and a smooth operator with a string of attractive or lonely women on the side. A secret love child was not ideal but still manageable for an efficient and well-organised man like Jack. And at the end of the day, Davey Dash was his flesh and blood. The reality of their lives meant Jack could never play ball with him or take him fishing, but that didn't make Davey Dash any less his son.

Jack knew David Francis wouldn't mind waiting a little longer outside, and besides, it was not in his nature to disappoint a beautiful woman offering scotch.

Years later, Jack found himself hiding awkwardly at the back of a church in a black suit while Davey Dash, who had grown into a quietly dignified young man, delivered a heartfelt eulogy to his mother. Tina's enduring battle with breast cancer had come to an end and as Jack watched Dave Dash, he wondered if he could have eased the pain.

Jack had long stopped his secret support payments at Tina's insistence. His visits to the Dash apartment ended. It had seemed fair; at the time, Dave was almost 18 and planning his move away from Boston, while Jack was heading into retirement, officially at least. But the Dashes were hardly wealthy and Tina's eventual diagnosis must have taken a financial as well as emotional toll. _It's not your fault. You didn't know she was sick. She asked you to stop. She had a husband and two boys to care for her._ He had tried to tell himself the same thing all week but Jack couldn't quite shake the feeling that he should have done more.

One glance at Tina's son, now in his twenties, crying at the front of the church told Jack it was too late for that. As soon as the service was over, Jack slipped away – careful to avoid Larry Dash who had graciously turned a blind eye to his presence and Davey Dash who had been oblivious to it – and wiped his hands clean. Maybe Jack could have done things differently but it was time to move on. He had made a vow to his wife before God and from that day forward, Tina and Dave Dash would no longer exist for him.


	5. Katherine, Susan, Dave Dash

**A/N:** Thank you to KLCtheBookWorm and leat79 for the reviews! :)

Sorry for the delay in updating; it's an incredibly busy time of semester for me. And then I had to try to get into the head of a crazy Housewife or two...

* * *

**KATHERINE MAYFAIR**

Katherine prided herself on one thing above all else: being a good woman. To be the most loving partner in the world, she asked only to be loved in return. To be the most devoted and nurturing mother, she asked only for the happiness of the children she doted on. To be the most generous and loyal friend, she asked only that her friends kept their hands off the man she loved.

Katherine sighed. She sealed the lunch bags, got in the car and began the long, nervous drive. The past few months had been hell, and an ongoing feud with her oldest friend on Wisteria Lane was sapping the life out of her. Now someone had beaten up Mike and all she and Susan could do was compete with each other to show him the most affection.

There was nothing worse than the realisation that you were loneliest when you were with your closest friends.

Somehow she found her way to the visitors' carpark at Oak Ridge School. She hesitated, unsure of what the procedure should be. Did she need to go to the office? Talk to the principal? Find Susan?

Katherine stepped out and locked the car, gripping the two lunch bags in her hand. She had only taken a few steps towards the gate when a familiar child's voice called out to her.

"Katherine!"

Katherine beamed, as the little boy came running towards the fence.

"Hello, MJ!" Katherine replied, crouching in front of him. "Have you eaten lunch?"

MJ shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

"Thinking about Daddy?" asked Katherine.

MJ nodded.

Katherine reached through the bars in fence and took MJ's hand. "You know, you really should eat. It's not healthy to skip meals." She held up the lunch bags in her other hand. "And I made Paninis and macaroons."

A warm buttery glow wrapped itself around Katherine's heart as MJ's face slowly lit up. She lived for that feeling of warmth. She squeezed the lunch bag through the gap in the fence and watched MJ unwrap and bite into the Panini.

"What the hell is going on here?!" The icy venom of another familiar voice froze Katherine's heart in its tracks. She managed to straighten her weak knees and soon found herself face to face with Susan, separated only by metal bars.

"Susan, hi!" Katherine held up the other lunch bag. "Listen, I made Panini—"

"Are you trying to bribe my kid?" Susan demanded.

"Am I—bri—No!" Katherine spluttered. "Of course not! I just wanted to talk…"

"Talk," Susan repeated. "Well, you can talk to me and leave my son out of it." She glanced down, where Katherine was painfully aware of MJ, looking horribly ashamed with the half-eaten Panini sticking out of his mouth.

"Fine… Can we take it inside then?" asked Katherine. Susan pursed her lips, nodded, and began to walk towards the main building of the school. Katherine scurried around the fence and pushed open the gate to catch up, still clutching the other lunch bag.

She wondered why things got so messed up and if she could ever get her best friend back.

* * *

**SUSAN MAYER**

Susan sat in the art room staring absently out the window. On the other side of that glass, happy rich kids ate lunch and played in the carefree manner that only children could harness. And then somewhere out there was her baby MJ. Susan wanted nothing more than to take her son's pain away but there was little hope of that when she herself was bleeding inside and scarred by fear.

Mike was still in hospital, his body battered and bones broken from a horrific attack. The sudden downpour of rain that day had apparently washed away a great deal of evidence and Susan had spent a good 10 minutes screaming at the incompetent cops who still had no idea who had beaten up Mike, while Katherine sulked beside her.

"You should go to lunch." Susan turned from the window to see Jessie, the art teacher entering the room with a steaming mug.

"I'm not hungry," Susan replied.

"Well, I brought you a decaf soy latté," said Jessie, placing the mug on one of the tables and taking a seat.

Susan managed a half-smile. "Thanks," she said politely. She dragged herself to the table and sat across from Jessie.

"How is Mike?" Jessie enquired.

"Well, he has a broken nose, ribs, collarbone and arm but he says he's okay," said Susan.

"And you?"

"I'm fine. Really." Susan looked up to find Jessie staring sharply at her. Sensing her friend was not going to let her off the hook so easily, Susan sighed and went on. "The past few months have been really hard on all of us and this hasn't helped. MJ's worried about his dad. And then there's Katherine and I…" Susan trailed off.

Jessie reached over and put a comforting hand on Susan's shoulder.

"Katherine is one of my dearest friends," said Susan, a lump rising in her throat. "But when you're lucky enough to meet someone and just know they're the one, nothing's supposed to get in the way of that. Nothing. At least that's what I always thought. You see, Mike really is the one for me. We're supposed to live happily ever after with our son and be the perfect family. But Katherine is ruining all of that. She loves him too and Mike's so confused and MJ…"

Susan stood up abruptly. "I'm going to go find MJ. Make sure he's okay."

Before Jessie could react, Susan went outside and began scouring the playground. Her eyes rested on the boy – unmistakably her son – standing by the fence. Susan caught a flash of red hair on the other side of the fence and stomped over with as much force and conviction as her heels would allow.

"_What the hell is going on here?!"_ she asked. What was Katherine doing with MJ? At school?! Susan looked down and saw MJ guiltily tucking into a sandwich. She felt sick.

"_I just wanted to talk,"_ said Katherine.

Talk.

Inside, Jessie took the cue as soon as she saw Susan and Katherine, leaving the two rivals alone in the art room.

Talk about what? Susan thought bitterly. About how brilliant in the kitchen Katherine was, while Susan – MJ's mother, for God's sake – managed to screw up spaghetti?

The seconds ate away and it felt like hours before Katherine finally said, "I thought maybe we could have lunch. You know, like old times."

Susan glanced at her and looked away regretfully. "I don't think we can ever go back to old times, Katherine. I think you know that."

Katherine took a shaky step towards her. "But we can't go on like this either. It's no good for anyone; not us, not Mike, not MJ…"

"Stay away from MJ!" Susan snapped, feeling a pang of guilt the moment she saw Katherine's crestfallen face. "Keep your damn sandwiches away and your perfect little recipes away from him. He is my son!"

They were interrupted by the sound of a revving engine and a deafening crash. Screams and cries pierced the air. Staff began tearing down the corridors outside. With a sense of foreboding in her heart, Susan pushed past them and ran outside.

She had thought life couldn't get any worse.

She was wrong.

* * *

**DAVE DASH**

Little Davey Dash was the boy with the heart of gold. Although his family couldn't afford many luxuries and his brother Stevie was often his only companion, Davey filled the cramped apartment with his warmth. He always helped their elderly neighbour carry her groceries and shared the cookies she baked for him with the rest of his family.

Sometimes Davey saw a strange man whispering to his mother outside their apartment but she never talked about it and his dad never seemed to notice. One afternoon, Davey locked eyes with the strange man who was leaving their building as he was coming home from the music store with Stevie and his dad. But Davey was perceptive for his age and soon understood it was not his place to ask questions about that.

Lawrence Dash instilled a love of music in his sons from an early age and Dave grew up with a steady diet that included the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, B.B. King, Miles Davis, and countless others. However, as the boys moved into their teens, Steve Dash proved the more talented musician. He also started making friends with different groups of people and getting into trouble with them. It was a worrying trend that continued into college and would eventually land Steve in jail on a series of drug and assault charges.

Dave, on the other hand, remained the perfect son. No one understood loneliness better than Dave Dash and the only way he knew how to cope was to make the only people who truly loved him proud. He studied hard, got good grades, took on a string of jobs to help support his family, and made sure he never cried until the lights were out at night. Eventually he moved to the Eagle State where he fell in love with a pretty girl named Lila.

Over time, Lila coaxed his shyness away. She comforted Dave through his mother's sickness and death. Finally Dave didn't have to cry alone anymore. She was there for him when Lawrence succumbed to his shotgun and a broken heart. She was there when Steve was bashed to death in prison. Through every hardship and tragedy in Dave's life, Lila was the one constant, the beacon of shining light he could depend on. She was his inspiration and motivation. They got married and when Lila gave birth to their daughter Paige, Dave knew life couldn't get any better.

He had heard people talk about loving someone so much it hurt, but he never knew fairytales could have anything but happy endings.

Dave's life ended the night Lila and Paige were killed. Truth be told, he liked Dr Heller; but no shrink, no psych ward, no fluffy words of encouragement could save him from what he had become. Dave Dash resigned himself to living inside the body of Dave Williams, guiding him, waiting for the chance to avenge his wife and daughter before joining them in a better place.

But now both of them were trapped in a padded cell with no company but the terrifying ghosts of the past and each other, and no chance that the situation would ever change.

That was, until the day a well-dressed DDA from Los Angeles arrived at Boston Ridgegate Mental Hospital looking for his brother.


	6. David McNorris

**A/N:** Thanks again to leat79 and KLCtheBookWorm for the reviews. :)

This chapter includes quotes from Boomtown episodes "Execution", "The David McNorris Show", "The Squeeze", and "Inadmissable", as well as from earlier in this fic. Just wanted to illustrate our tortured DDA's penchant for self-loathing reflection. ;)

* * *

**DAVID MCNORRIS**

"_I'm kind of seeing someone… He's probably the only guy I've ever had in my life who didn't make me feel worse about myself."_

David McNorris rained punches into the speed bag he kept in his office, watching the red blur as it rebounded back at him only to be whacked again. He knew he could be tracking down Dave Dash right now but part of him wanted to put it off as long as he could. Hell, he already had three other siblings who were practically strangers. Instead, McNorris tried to direct all his energy into beating the crap out of that stupid little punching bag, trying to imagine someone else's face on it.

"_I have another son to a woman other than your mother."_

His dad. The lying, cheating asshole had taught him everything he knew. How to throw a punch, how to cheat on your wife, how to make dirty deals and get away with them. How to be a Fixer.

"_Come on, David. You wanted to manipulate my emotions, and you know what? I'm sorry. I have none."_

Ben Fisher, the honourable District Attorney. His smarmy, corrupt prick of a boss.

"_When you asked me to marry you… I jumped at the chance because being part of the David McNorris Show was the most exhilarating adventure I could imagine. But somewhere along the way, things changed and the script got darker, and my role became insignificant."_

Marian. The beautiful, charming soon-to-be-former Mrs McNorris. Why couldn't she understand that his little affair didn't mean he'd loved her any less? He just couldn't help himself.

"_You didn't always need a safety net, David. Certainly not the first time you kissed me in broad daylight when anyone could have run back to tell your wife!"_

Andrea. His sweet, alluring little drug. He scoured the _Tribune _religiously every morning for her byline and ached every time he saw her at a press conference or drove past her house.

"_Find him. Find Dave Dash and help me make things right."_

David Dash. The brother he'd never met and never knew about until yesterday. The bastard product of Ol' Jackie Boy's thoughtless womanising ways.

"_I'm a lawyer. We don't have feelings."_

David McNorris. A lonely, pathetic, soulless drunk. The Poor Man's Jack McNorris. Sometimes David wished that stupid little punching bag would hit back and knock him out.

The door opened behind him.

"Working off some of that pent-up frustration?"

McNorris stopped punching and turned to face Andrea. "Huh?" he said, catching his breath.

"Never mind. I take it you haven't had much time… so I did a little research on your brother." Andrea shut the door and approached him, holding up a folder. "He's, uh, in a padded cell at Boston Ridgegate Mental Hospital."

McNorris blinked, taking the folder. "What for?"

"Well, you could write a book about that," said Andrea, "But those articles from the _Fairview Herald_ and _Mount Pleasant Gazette_ should give you a general idea." McNorris began to skim the contents of the folder as Andrea continued. "Basically he had a mental breakdown when his wife and daughter were killed in a car accident around four years ago. A guy called Mike Delfino was investigated as the driver of the other car but never charged. Meanwhile, your brother changed his name to David Williams and remarried. And then he moved to a street in Fairview, where this guy Delfino just happened to be from."

"Wow. He might just fit into the McNorris family," David remarked, only half joking.

Andrea smiled humourlessly. "Well apparently Williams rescued this Delfino guy from a fire at some bar. Guess who lit the fire?"

"Vulcan?"

Andrea ignored him. "Williams was charged with arson and the murder of his psychiatrist but was committed to the hospital instead."

McNorris bit his lip thoughtfully. "Can I ask you something? Why are you helping me?" he wondered.

"You asked me to."

David took a calculated step towards her. "I thought you made it pretty clear you weren't going to."

"I never said that. I was just surprised you came to me," said Andrea. "And… I felt bad about what I said last night."

David winced, before shrugging as nonchalantly as he could manage. "It's the truth, isn't it? And you've never been one to shy away from the truth." As much as it hurt sometimes, it was also one of the most attractive traits she possessed.

"It's not the whole truth," Andrea admitted. "I think I'm capable of making myself feel worse all on my own."

"Hey, don't say that." David came forward and squeezed an awkward hug around her. She was wearing that perfume he liked, the one she'd been wearing when she wrote that profile on him for the _Sunday Magazine_ a couple of years ago, and David wondered if it had been a completely innocent move on Andrea's part. A few seconds later, he cleared his throat and released her.

"What are you going to do? About your brother?" asked Andrea.

"I'll have to pay him a visit."

"I don't think they're going to just let you in, David," Andrea said.

"I'll find a way," McNorris replied. "I have connections, remember?"

"Well, it might not even be safe. The guy is in a padded cell for a reason."

McNorris raised an eyebrow. "Are you concerned for my safety now, Ms Little?"

"Why would I stop being concerned? I said I was going to be your friend, didn't I?"

McNorris stared at her, wondering why life had to be so unfair, wondering what kind of guy she was with now, fighting the urge to throw her onto the couch and slide his tongue into her mouth. "Thanks," he said at last, his mouth dry. "For everything."

"Sure," said Andrea, staring back at him with an odd expression on her face, as if she knew what he had been thinking, and David felt his face start to burn as she continued. "Listen… maybe you should consult Michael Hirsch. He's perfect for a case like this. It's not every day you come across someone who's both a qualified shrink and a lawyer."

"I know what he is; I'm the one who introduced him to…" McNorris trailed off as the sick realisation dawned on him. "Are you sleeping with Hirsch?" he demanded.

"Excuse me?!"

"You heard me."

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Who's better in bed, me or Michael?"

"Go to hell!"

"Been there, done that."

Andrea threw her hands in the air, her brown eyes flaming. The odd expression on her face had turned to disgust.

David clenched his fist and sighed. "I'm sorry."

She didn't answer. Cautiously, he stepped forward again, closing the space between them, and gently cupped Andrea's face with his hand. She stiffened and flinched slightly but didn't move away. "I'm sorry I make you feel worse about yourself," he whispered.

Andrea averted his gaze. "Look, I didn't mean it like that…"

"Yeah you did," said David. "I did, I used you."

"We used each other, David. And we both reaped the benefits without care for the consequences."

"I made the first move. And I'm the only one who cheated on my spouse." David swallowed hard. "But… if you've found someone who treats you the way you deserve to be treated, then I'm… I'm happy for you… What is it?"

Andrea shook her head and pulled away from him. "You can be the biggest jerk sometimes but every now and then, you remind me why I fell for you."

David closed his eyes. She was killing him. Did she have to be so close to him, filling the room with that scent that drove him crazy? When did this office get so damn stuffy? He loosened his tie a little as he walked over to his desk and put the folder down.

"When are you leaving?" asked Andrea.

"I already told Fisher I had a family emergency," said David, "So I can probably be on a flight to Boston tomorrow."

"Good luck," said Andrea.

When she left, David McNorris rang his father and told him to pack his bags. Staring at the punching bag, he dialled the number of that quack Michael Hirsch.

Far too soon, the McNorrises were on the plane, David studying the folder that Andrea had given him and Jack looking over his son's shoulder. David realised it was the first time since he was eight years old that he had sat down next to his father for more than half an hour without copious amounts of alcohol being involved.

Apparently two L.A. lawyers had more muscle than one. Michael Hirsch had agreed to contact the mental hospital, and David McNorris grudgingly conceded to himself that Hirsch's psychiatric background had probably helped proceedings. But as he stood in a gloomy room at Boston Ridgegate, McNorris couldn't help wishing his father had never come to him. It was like his tour of the gas chamber at San Quentin Prison all over again. This time, a doctor stood in the corner and a guard manned the door. McNorris' long lost half brother sat restrained at a table. No one ever wanted to be confronted with such a pitiful sight in their lifetime, let alone the eerie sensation of looking at a zombie version of yourself.

McNorris watched in gross fascination as Dave Williams' deadened eyes began to mist. He blinked rapidly and seemed to see McNorris for the first time. His lips began to move but made no sound.

McNorris turned to the doctor. "Is the straitjacket really necessary?"

Dr Riviera glanced at Williams. "He's had the occasional violent outburst. Hasn't said a word since he got in."

"I won't hurt you!"

Dr Riviera looked startled and McNorris turned back upon hearing Dave Williams' first intelligible words since being committed.

"Please," Williams continued softly, articulating each word as if he was learning it for the first time. "I want to talk to him. I'm not going to hurt anyone. You can feed or inject me with whatever you think I need. But please, please remove the straitjacket."

McNorris looked at Riviera. "Do it," he commanded, wondering what the hell he was getting himself into.


	7. Dave Williams

**A/N:** Thanks to KLCtheBookWorm and leat79 on FF, and tpeej on LJ for reviewing the last chapter.

* * *

**DAVE WILLIAMS**

"_My name is David McNorris... You and I share the same biological father."_

Dave Williams closed his eyes, letting the words echo in his head. He had a love-hate relationship with the drugs. In the moments before they were pumped into him, every instinct was to scream and writhe in panic and pain. Then there was that sullen throbbing that pulsed through him as they took hold, before the familiar warm calm washed over him. It was easier to think clearly in that state, he conceded, but sometimes he felt like he was losing touch with Lila and Paige, and it scared him. _I'm sorry_, he mouthed silently to them, but he couldn't risk doing anything that seemed rash.

Williams gently flexed his shoulders when the straitjacket came free and opened his eyes as Dr Riviera and a nurse lowered him back into his chair. David McNorris was now seated rigidly on the other side of the table. He was as frightened as a baby deer stranded on train tracks and trying not to show it. Williams sensed that appearing in control was very important to David McNorris so he waited for the other man to speak.

Several prolonged moments of awkwardness followed before McNorris found his tongue. "So as I was saying… we're… half brothers."

"Yeah," said Williams, "I'm not here because I'm deaf, Mr McNorris."

"R-Right." McNorris stammered. "Well, my father – our father's – name is Jack McNorris. He came to me a few days ago, telling me he had liver disease and confessing that he had a long lost son – You. He wanted my help in finding you so here I am."

"Who else knows about me?" Williams asked.

"Pop and me obviously," said McNorris. "Andrea, she's my… she's my ex. She helped me track you down."

"She's your ex?"

"It's a long story but we're friends."

Williams frowned for a moment, then shrugged it off. "Anyone else?"

"Dr Hirsch, a psychiatrist and lawyer back in L.A. who helped liaise with the hospital. Pop said my mother doesn't know yet, nor my brothers and sister."

"Okay," said Williams slowly. He couldn't really imagine anyone else but Lawrence Dash being his dad. Where had this Jack McNorris guy been all these years if he was Dave's biological father? On the other hand, Williams wasn't getting the sense that David McNorris would go to so much trouble to screw with a man who had been labelled criminally insane. And when Williams travelled back in time, he could vaguely remember the air of secrecy that always seemed to hang over the Dash apartment. Not to mention there was something about McNorris' eyes… "So tell me about our daddy. What's he like? What does he do?"

"He's, uh…" McNorris hesitated, and Williams realised he'd managed to hit a sensitive spot.

"It doesn't matter if it's good, bad or ugly," said Williams. "You can be brutally honest with me, Mr McNorris. I'm sure I've seen worse."

"You can call me David," said McNorris. "Or else Pop's always called me David Francis…"

"_I'm_ David," Williams whispered. "Dash, Williams, it doesn't matter. But I'm David, it's all I've got in here…"

McNorris gulped visibly. "Alright, Dave. Well… Pop's the kind of guy who likes actions more than words, so he probably wasn't that happy at first when I became a lawyer and moved to California." McNorris shifted in his seat and gathered his thoughts. "He… He likes a good drink – Irish, you know? Um, he always encouraged our sporting pursuits; always drove us to baseball and hockey and football. Great boxer himself. I'm average but I still try to get some time in the ring when I can."

"And work?" And here lay the raw nerve, Williams thought, as McNorris' shoulders tensed even more. Williams leaned forward slightly. "Is he a hit man or something? I mean, I won't judge."

McNorris chuckled nervously. "Well not quite." He swallowed again. "He was known as the Fixer. When people in positions of power wanted their problems to go away, they called Ol' Jackie Boy, and he did whatever needed to be done. Whether it was physical intimidation or finding someone a new home in the British West Indies…"

"I see. He pass any of that expertise onto you?"

McNorris blanched – if that was even possible given how pale he already was – and didn't respond.

Williams smirked knowingly. "Sorry, brother."

McNorris cleared his throat. "So how about you?" he asked. "Tell me about yourself."

Williams pointed to the grey walls surrounding them. "Not much to tell. If you found me here, you probably already know everything about me."

"Only what people have said about you. I don't know _your_ story, Dave."

Williams scowled silently. His story? Everything he had ever loved was gone, and that was the beginning and end of it.

"You're a motivational speaker," McNorris went on. "Does that, uh, help you in here?"

"Is that supposed to be funny, Mr McNorris?"

McNorris' face went from ghostly white to pink. "I—uh—no, no of course not." He suddenly became very interested in fixing his tie. "I just mean… well, what about your childhood? I don't know anything about that."

Williams shrugged. "We didn't have a lot but we made do. My dad – Larry – was more of a music man. He raised us on it. All our spare money went into records. My brother Steve was a brilliant guitarist too; confident, charismatic, lightning fingers. I played the drums." Williams looked up. "You like music, brother?"

"I don't play, but sure. You could say Warren Zevon has a special place in my heart."

Williams was impressed. "You a Werewolves of London kind of guy? Or... oh, I know. Lawyers, Guns and Money, right?"

McNorris smiled. "Yeah. But sometimes I feel like Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner."

Williams laughed, surprising himself.

"So anyway," McNorris said seriously. "Can you tell me about your family?"

Williams squeezed the table and shut his eyes. All of a sudden, he could feel hot tears beginning to pool inside. "What's to tell?" he said at last. "I killed them. I killed everyone I ever loved."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't take care of my mother and she died. I left my father all alone and he died. I let Steve's problems spiral out of control until he ended up in jail and died." Williams opened his eyes as the tears splashed onto the table. "I was too busy with work to take Paige and Lila out for ice cream so they got in the car and died. I had a massive fight with Edie and she sped off in the car and died." Williams buried his face in his hands and began to sob audibly. "It's all my fault. Everything."

"Don't beat yourself up like that," said McNorris uncomfortably.

"You're not the one in here, with nothing but those memories. You don't know what it's like," Williams sniffed. He wiped the tears away and took a deep breath. McNorris was starting to control the situation. _Focus, Dave_, he told himself.

"No, I don't," McNorris agreed, "My wife's not dead. But I did lose her. I lost her over another woman who doesn't even want me anymore."

Williams stared at McNorris. It wasn't the same, he thought. How was cheating on your wife anything like killing her? He would never have cheated on Lila. He loved her and Paige far too much. And he hadn't meant to survive his attempt to avenge their deaths, so Edie could have been avenged too. But he had failed on all counts; Mike, Susan and MJ were still alive, and Williams was trapped in this living hell for the rest of his days.

"I spent some time in a substance abuse clinic last year," said McNorris, before hesitating. He started to glance over his shoulder, as if remembering there weren't alone in the room, then stopped again, half-shrugged and went on. "I'd had what I considered harmless little sips of booze since I was a kid, and after my wife and my mistress both dumped me, I didn't know what else to lean on. It spiralled out of control before I knew what was happening." McNorris shut his eyes as they began to well. "Then one morning, I woke up in my car. I couldn't remember what had happened the night before. But my windshield and headlights were broken and there was blood on the front of my car. And when I turned on the radio, I heard some guy had been killed in a hit and run overnight."

Williams gaped at his brother. "You killed him?"

"I thought I did," McNorris whispered. "I asked the police to keep me in the loop regarding the investigation while I tried to cover it up. Then a cop came round and took me to the station and I thought my life was over. But it turned out an elderly man with dementia had run over the guy. I'd hit a stray dog." McNorris paused to make eye contact with Williams. "Look, Dave, I have no idea what it's like to be twice widowed and wondering how you could have prevented it. But I do know what it's like to wallow in guilt. And it's a dark place; worse than this room, worse than a cell. It's a prison of your mind."

Williams dipped his head again. No, he needed those ghosts. He needed them until he could find his way back to Paige and Lila. "I just don't know what else to do," he said.

"I want to help if I can," said McNorris. "You're my brother. And I made a promise to Pop. He wanted me to make things right."

Williams looked up. _Now, Dave!_ "Can I meet him?" he asked.

McNorris turned to Dr Riviera in the corner. "I think we can arrange that, can't we, Doc? Unless you want an investigation to suddenly open into the conditions in this hospital; I mean, I find it interesting that your patients can't even get a regular haircut and a shave."

Williams smirked at the look of pure horror that flashed across Riviera's face and saw all pretense of control slide from the doctor's grasp. Man, this McNorris guy was good. "Can you get them to cut my hair and give me a shave first, brother?" Williams asked innocently, running a hand through the matted mop on his head for dramatic effect.

McNorris turned to the doctor again. Riviera pursed his lips, then gave a reluctant nod.

"Can you do something else for me?"

"What is it?"

Williams locked eyes with McNorris. "Get me out of here."

In the corner, Dr Riviera began to object until McNorris held up his hand.

"Hear me out," Williams pleaded. "I'm perfectly fine on my meds. I really am. I just thought I had nothing to live for anymore. My family was all dead. But now I have another family. A father who may not be alive much longer. I want to get to know my family before it's too late. I have that right."

"Even if you could be released from here, I can't guarantee your freedom," McNorris warned him.

"Please try," said Williams. "You could be my second chance, brother. Do you believe in redemption?"

McNorris looked at the table, then at Williams. "I can't promise anything, Dave. But I'll do my best to help you in any way I can."

They shook hands.

Williams looked up and met his half-brother's piercing blue gaze. He had looked like that once. Fit, healthy, neatly groomed and well presented. That Dave had slowly wasted away in the harrowing months in his cell. But in the uncanny reflection that sat before him now, Dave Williams saw hope of another tomorrow.


	8. MJ Delfino

**A/N:** Thanks again to leat79 and KLCtheBookWorm on FF, and tpeej on LJ for the reviews. Apologies in advance to KLC for this short little teaser, but the endgame is in sight now...

* * *

**M.J. DELFINO**

MJ chewed on the last of his Panini, watching his mother and Katherine march across the playground into the school building. They had been fighting so much lately, especially since the wedding. The only time MJ could get away from it was if he was in a class or alone with his dad. But now Daddy was in hospital after being badly hurt in an accident at work. Mama and Katherine were fighting even more. And no one was telling MJ what was going on.

His parents had both been acting weird since Dave took Mama and him camping. MJ remembered playing a game with Dave in the woods. He remembered Dave suddenly yelling at him to get out of the car, and then running towards Mama after seeing Dave crash into Daddy's car. Then Daddy had got out and kissed Mama even though he was supposed to be marrying Katherine that night. Suddenly Dave had disappeared from Wisteria Lane and MJ never saw him again.

Meanwhile, all the grown-ups kept saying everything was fine but MJ knew something was wrong.

"MJ?"

MJ turned around and saw a funny man in a grey suit, hat, and sunglasses approach the fence. "Yeah, but I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he said.

"I'm not a stranger, MJ," the man replied, kneeling down to MJ's height. "I wouldn't know your name otherwise, would I?"

"I guess." MJ squinted at the man.

The man gestured towards the school building which MJ's mother and Katherine had just disappeared into. "Was that your mom and Katherine? What just happened? Looked like World War Three or something."

MJ sighed. "I don't know, they're always yelling. Sometimes about Daddy. Sometimes about silly stuff like Paninis. I wish they'd just go back to being friends. Then I could have lunch with Katherine without anyone getting into trouble."

"Sometimes people aren't nice to each other," said the man. "Sometimes the world is messed up. But you're a big boy now. You have to be tough. Sometimes you have to do things you don't really want to for the greater good, and let the ends justify the means. That's how the world works."

MJ blinked, confused.

The man saw him and paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Do you want to be able to fix things, MJ? Do you want to be able to make problems go away?"

"Like with my mommy and daddy and Katherine?" asked MJ.

The man smiled. "Just like that," he said.

"Yeah. I want to be able to fix everything. But I'm just a kid."

"We're all part of a bigger picture, MJ. You're going to help make everything right again, I promise."

"Hey, MJ!" MJ turned and saw Evan waving to him. "Wanna come play?"

The man stood up and straightened his suit. "You better go. It was nice talking to you. Maybe we'll meet again in another life."


	9. David McNorris again

**A/N:** Thanks to KLCtheBookWorm and leat79 for the reviews.

This chapter kind of came out of nowhere while I was trying to construct my big reveal. :P

* * *

**DAVID MCNORRIS**

With the sun streaming through the windows, David sank back onto the mattress and rested his eyes. He was in a strange bed in a strange hotel room with far too much running through his head to get any sleep, but it couldn't hurt to try before he booked a flight home. He didn't particularly want to be in Boston anymore, but he wasn't exactly jumping to get back to Los Angeles either.

As he began to drift off, Jack McNorris floated into David's consciousness. The bastard had a habit of doing that.

"You've got to get him out of there," Jack had ordered last night, just a few feet away from the bed where David now lay. "They can't keep him locked up forever."

Sure they can, David thought sullenly. He took a deep breath. "His case will be reviewed periodically," he said carefully. "If he's deemed fit for release then he'll get out. It's got nothing to do with me."

"You're just going to walk away from your brother?" said Jack incredulously. "It could be you in there!"

"Pop, what the hell do you want me to do?" asked David, exasperated. "I'm not a mental health professional. I don't have any dirt on the DA here and I'm not willing to bank on his corruptibility. At least if Dave's in that hospital, he's not someone's bitch in jail."

"Look, forget those charges. Davey Dash wouldn't hurt a fly…"

"Maybe 'Davey Dash' wouldn't," said David tersely, "But Dave Williams or whoever that guy in there is? He is a murderer and an arsonist whether we like it or not. How do we know he's not a danger to society the moment he's released? How do we know he'll stay on his meds? How do we know he won't come after this Delfino guy again? We don't, Pop. That's why we have experts to assess him and not Fixers."

Jack banged the wall with his fist. "I need a drink," he muttered.

David ignored him. "Hey, I got you in there to meet him, didn't I?" He had never wanted to be a Fixer, but couldn't his dad see how often David bent the rules – for him? "Look Pop, I don't know the history between you and his mother but I did everything you asked of me."

Jack smiled grimly, before approaching David and hugging him awkwardly. "You're right. Thank you, David Francis."

David opened his eyes and frowned. There was still something inherently uncomfortable about being hugged by a man who used to scream and belt you across the face if you didn't tow his line.

David sighed, wondering if he could get away with flying back to LA without visiting his mother. Right on cue, his phone began to ring. He picked it up without checking the caller. "McNorris," he said tiredly.

"David, David, he's gone!" a panicked voice shrieked down the line.

David sat up, suddenly awake. "Mom? What do you mean, what's going on?"

"Y-Your father," cried Sarah McNorris. "Have you seen him?"

"Not since last night," said David.

"Oh god, he's disappeared, what if he's killed himself, David, what will I do?"

"Okay, calm down, Mom. I'll come over now."

Well, that answered that question.

David arrived at his old family home as Sarah ushered him in. "He told me you were in Boston," said Sarah between sobs, "And I thought – hoped – maybe he was with you." She handed David a piece of paper. "He was gone when I woke up this morning. He left this note. It sounds like a suicide note or something, David."

David frowned at the note littered with Jack's scrawl.

_Dearest Sarah,_

_I think you've always known that I courted other women during the course of our marriage even though you never said anything. But many years ago, I had an affair with a woman who bore me a son named David Dash. For years, I kept this a secret in the back of my mind, but after my diagnosis two weeks ago, I knew I wanted to reconnect with Dave Dash before my time was up._

_Yesterday, our David Francis made that happen. Dave is currently in a psychiatric facility here in Boston after losing his whole family in tragic circumstances. I don't know if he'll get out in my lifetime so I'm very lucky to have had the chance to meet him._

_Whatever happens, I just want you to know that I love you very much and I'm very sorry for all the hurt I've put you and the kids through._

_Love always,_

_Jack._

David blinked. A repentant Jack McNorris? Now that was some freak of nature. David glanced up and, seeing his mother staring at him with questions in her eyes, averted her gaze before saying: "Yeah, I knew about Dave Dash. That's what Pop came to tell me in LA. That's why I'm here now." He sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sure he hasn't killed himself. Have you tried calling him?"

"Six times," Sarah whispered.

David decided to try himself, knowing full well that if Jack didn't want to be contacted he wouldn't be, and was surprised when the call connected. "Pop, where the hell are you?!" he demanded. "Mom's worried sick!"

"Finally decided to visit her, did you?" said Jack dryly.

"She called me. She said you left her a suicide note."

Jack paused for a moment. "It's not a suicide note, David Francis. I just needed to take some time out to clear my head. A week at the most. Tell your mother I'll be back before she knows it." He hung up.

David sighed.

"Well? What did he say?" asked Sarah, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Just that he needed to clear his head and he'll be back in about a week," said David.

There was a long pause.

"Well, I suppose if that's what he wants… I mean he has his way of dealing with things…"

Another pause.

"Why didn't you come and see me before I called?" asked Sarah, abruptly changing the subject. "And why are you staying at a hotel and not here with us?"

David pinched the bridge of his nose and winced. "Well, I don't have the best relationship with Pop," he finally answered, "And you always seemed closer to Marian somehow. I hear she might even be moving back to Dorchester."

Sarah smiled sadly and walked towards her eldest son. "David, what you did was wrong but everyone makes mistakes. Just look at your father," she said, taking his hand. "You're my son and I'll never stop loving you." David swallowed a lump in his throat as Sarah wrapped his arms around him.

"Hey Mom, if you like I can stay here until Pop gets back," he offered, more out of obligation than anything.

Sarah's face lit up as she broke the hug. "That would be wonderful. Make yourself at home. This is your home, after all."

Brushing his hand over the stubble that had grown on his face overnight, David dumped himself on the sofa and let his eyes flutter shut.

He had just drifted off when his damn phone rang again. Cursing under his breath, he fumbled for it and stuck it to his ear. "Yeah?" he mumbled.

"David, I just got an interesting call from one of my contacts in Fairview." Andrea.

David raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Your brother's friend Mike Delfino is in hospital," said Andrea. "Someone beat the crap out of him at a house he was called to." David's eyes sprang open as Andrea continued. "But get this: the owner of the house says he was on vacation and doesn't know anything about a plumber."

David nodded uneasily, remembered that Andrea couldn't see him, and grunted in acknowledgment. "Thanks," he said soberly. "You know the drill. Keep me posted."


	10. Jack McNorris

**A/N:** I think it's been less than 10 hours since my last update so thanks to KLCtheBookWorm for reviewing the last chapter. :)

It's not really clear where Fairview in DH is located but for the sake of this fic, it's close enough to Massachusetts to be able to drive over. ;)

* * *

**JACK MCNORRIS**

Jackie Boy slipped into the pub and silently cast his eyes over the huddles of rowdy boozers watching the Patriots game until he spotted the man he was looking for in a dark corner. Jack glanced up at the score, muttered under his breath, and made his way over to Kerry Fitzpatrick.

"Ol' Jackie Boy," said Kerry, a hint of relief evident in his voice. "How are you? And Sarah and the kid?"

"We're good, Fitz," said Jack, taking a seat next to his friend. "And you?"

"I'm great," Kerry replied. "Why don't I get you a drink?" Without waiting for a response, Kerry left his seat and made his way to the bar, returning a few minutes later with a big glass of beer. "Plenty more where that came from, Jackie Boy," Kerry assured him.

Jack clicked his glass against Kerry's. "So it's been a while, huh. How is life at City Hall?"

Kerry nodded gingerly and took a long sip of his beer. "Well, as you know, I'm running for Mayor against Smith at the upcoming election." He took a paranoid glance behind him. "But I'm screwed, Jack," he continued in a voice barely audible above the commotion of the Pats fans. "You know Teddy G, right? He saw me with some whore from the Combat Zone. My career's gonna be over, my marriage, I'm gonna lose the kids…"

"Teddy G, that son of a bitch," Jack sneered. "What goes on between a man and a woman is their business." He sipped his beer. "Listen, Fitz, I knew Ted in school; we go way back. Why don't I pay him a visit? Have a little heart to heart. Make him understand."

Kerry blinked. "You think you can talk him out of ruining my life?"

Jack smiled at Kerry's apparent naivety. "Leave it to me. That's what friends are for."

When Kerry Fitzpatrick became Mayor, the first thing he did was appoint Jack McNorris as Supervisor of Public Works. Content to operate behind the scenes, Jack's real job was based on loyalty to his friends and their friends, taking action, and getting results. It was a role that fit him like a glove.

Now, some four decades later, Jack found himself sitting in a rental car in Fairview with a whiskey bottle in his hand, concerned for the first time in his life about someone he was about to "fix". Jack exhaled heavily, took a swig, and closed his eyes.

Less than a week ago he had been on a flight from Los Angeles to Boston. With his eldest son seated to his right, it was almost like driving through town with David Francis when he was a boy. Except that Jack's son was now a grown man living in California who had traded his Red Sox jersey and baseball glove for an expensive suit and a bulging file, and of course, they were on a plane instead.

"Would you like some wine, sirs?" A beautiful air hostess stopped beside them with a trolley. Jack could feel his mouth beginning to water.

"No thank you, we don't drink," said David Francis flatly.

Jack glanced behind him, a faint smile touching the side of his mouth when the air hostess moved on to the next row. "I thought you might've tried to keep her around a little longer. She's stunning."

"Pop…"

"I mean, since you blew it with Marian and all…"

"Pop, please," said David Francis in a strained voice.

"Alright, alright. What is this anyway?" asked Jack, leaning towards him. "Is this all about Davey Dash?" He picked up an article headlined "Fairview man won't be charged in accident that killed two".

"Pop, he's not well, okay? It might not be a good idea to get too attached to the idea of some sweet little family reunion…"

"He's not well and he's my son, David Francis," Jack retorted. "My son! Maybe you'll have kids of your own someday and then you might understand."

David Francis opened his mouth as if to say something, closed it, and smiled sardonically. "I'm sorry, Pop. I'll do what I can, okay? I promise."

Jack McNorris had steadfast beliefs in what it was to be a man. A man was resourceful. A man knew how to fight. A man provided for his family. Most importantly, a real man didn't cry. Certainly not in front of other men.

That commandment flew out the window when he laid eyes on Tina Williams' son. David Francis had warned him that "it was like staring into a mirror" but Jack was still frozen and gobsmacked by the uncanny resemblance between the grown up Davey Dash and David Francis. David Francis' hair was a shade darker, Davey Dash was a little more haggard, but there was no question where both sons had inherited those piercing blue eyes.

"I… know you," Davey Dash suddenly blurted. "I saw you with my mom when I was a boy. I didn't know you were…"

"I'm sorry, Dave," said Jack, as gently as he could muster. "I'm sorry I seduced your mom and I'm sorry for not being a father to you. But I know Tina and Larry both loved you very much."

Dave Dash was quiet for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Mom and Dad were good parents. I'm sure you would have been too." He looked up and tried to smile for the first time. "We've all made mistakes. Your son taught me that." He walked over and took Jack's callused hands. "I forgive you, Mr McNorris."

Jack began to weep openly and swallowed hard. "Call me Jack."

They shook hands, hesitated for a moment, then embraced, before Dave gestured for him to sit down.

"So, what has… 'David Francis'… told you about me?"

"Well, I know you lost your family in terrible circumstances…" said Jack, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment and receiving none.

They sat across the table from each other in silence until Jack – reasoning that Dave had been sedated to the point of numbness before this meeting – found the courage to ask: "What's the story with this Delfino guy?"

Dave froze. "Mike Delfino? Well, he was one of my neighbours on Wisteria Lane." Dave smiled weakly. "He owes me free plumbing."

"I read an article about the car accident he was in with your wife and daughter," said Jack, watching Dave carefully. "I don't know much else."

Dave stared at the ceiling, any traces of an attempted smile vanishing from his face. "I wanted him punished," he said softly. "I blamed him for taking Paige and Lila from me."

"What did you do?"

"First, I took Mike and his girlfriend Katherine on a camping trip," Dave replied, almost casually. "I was going to shoot her. To make him feel the pain I suffered." He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. "I missed. We went home. I had an argument with my new wife Edie. She stormed out and drove into a power pole and was electrocuted." Dave opened his eyes again. They were wet, but otherwise blank and dazed – the drugs, Jack supposed. "Susan, Mike's ex-wife came over and told me she understood how I was feeling because she'd killed a mother and her child – Lila and Paige – in a car accident, and let Mike take the blame for her."

"What happened then?"

Dave blinked, as if suddenly remembering that Jack was there. "Well, Mike and Susan have a little boy, MJ. I decided to take him and Susan camping. Mike… He found out what I was up to and wanted to sacrifice himself instead." Dave gulped visibly and rubbed his eyes. "So my new plan was for MJ and me to die when Mike collided with my car, as Susan watched by the side of the road." He smiled self-loathingly and his voice cracked. "But I couldn't do it. I just looked at MJ and saw Paige and I couldn't do it." Tears slipped onto the table. "I just couldn't kill that little boy."

Jack cleared his throat and leaned over and patted Dave on the arm. Of course he couldn't do it. How could any son of the temperate Tina Williams possibly hurt anyone, let alone a child? No, Davey Dash could never have been a Fixer. He was far too motivated by his heart.

Dave wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. "It all gets a little hazy after that. I made MJ get out of the car before I ran into Mike. He survived; I think I remember him yelling at me before the ambulance arrived. I remember cops talking to me. I remember doctors. I remember being dragged here." He looked up forlornly at Jack. "Then I remember meeting your son. And you." He sniffed and dragged up another feeble smile. "The crazy thing is, Mike's probably one of the best friends I've ever had," he murmured, almost to himself.

"David Francis will do everything he can to get you out of here a free man," Jack promised.

Dave snapped back to the present. His steely gaze met Jack's and a slow smile spread across his face. "I know, Jack," he replied. "I know. He's a Fixer, like his old man."

Jack started to chuckle, inappropriate as it was.

That night in David Francis' hotel room, Jack confronted his son with a simple request. "You've got to get him out of there."

David conjured up the sulking expression of an eight-year-old before replying: "It's got nothing to do with me."

"You're just going to walk away from your brother? It could be you in there!"

"Pop, what the hell do you want me to do?" said David Francis. "He is a murderer and an arsonist whether we like it or not… That's why we have experts to assess him and not Fixers…"

David Francis was right; he had completed his responsibility.

Jack knew what he had to do.

Early the next morning, Jack kissed his sleeping wife and left her the longest note he had ever written. He hired a rental car, packed a few bottles of booze into the glove compartment and under his seat, and embarked on a road trip.

Jack's phone rang half a dozen times on his way to Fairview. He ignored it until he was well across the border, then checked his missed calls. They were all from Sarah. He put his phone away. The less she knew the better.

As he studied his map, Jack's phone began to ring again. He sighed and glared at the phone. David Francis. Jack decided to answer.

"Pop, where the hell are you?!" David's voice blasted. "Mom's worried sick!"

"Finally decided to visit her, did you?"

"She called me. She said you left her a suicide note."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "It's not a suicide note, David Francis." _At least, I don't think it is_. "I just needed to take some time out to clear my head. A week at the most. Tell your mother I'll be back before she knows it." He hung up before David could answer, frowned pensively, and then dialled another number.

"Hello?" The voice was distant but unmistakably familiar.

"Fitz, it's Jack McNorris."

"Ol' Jackie Boy!" exclaimed former Mayor Kerry Fitzpatrick. "What can I do for you?"

Jack paused. Even before he became the Fixer, Jack had understood the importance of separating your heart from your duty. Even so, there were a couple of lines he had never crossed, and beating up women was one of them.

Men, on the other hand, were all fair game. Jack licked his lips, thinking of all the favours Kerry must owe him by now. "You still got that old house up in Fairview?" he asked.


	11. Dave Dash, David McNorris

**A/N:** Thanks KLCtheBookWorm and leat79 for reviewing the last chapter.

I thought it might be "poetic" (but not in a "killing innocent children" type of way) to let the titular characters share some chapter space in the time we have left. ;)

* * *

**DAVE DASH**

"You won't believe how insane these past few days have been."

Dave sat on the floor and leaned against the cushioning on the wall of his cell, smiling at the angelic apparitions that had gradually returned to him.

"Tell us about it, Dave," said Lila Dash, gently stroking Paige's blonde curls.

Dave stared adoringly at Lila. "Well, apparently Lawrence Dash wasn't my biological father," he explained. "A man named Jack McNorris was. My half-brother, David McNorris, tracked me down this week. And now I have another family I never knew about." He turned towards Paige and leaned forward, taking her hand. "You have a new grandpa, three uncles and an aunty, my little princess. Isn't that exciting?"

Paige's eyes widened in surprise. "Are they nice, Daddy?"

Dave beamed at the innocent wonder on her face. "Well, I've only met your Grandpa Jack and one of your uncles," he said. "But they seem like special people." He winked at her and kissed her forehead.

"Can I meet them?" asked Paige sweetly.

Dave smiled sadly and looked away. "You will one day." Dave glanced over at Lila. "Jack's got liver disease," he added quietly.

Before she could respond, a sliding metal bolt clicked loudly from outside. Lila and Paige took the cue and disappeared.

The grey doors swung open. Dr Riviera frowned skeptically at Dave.

"Ready for your first assessment, Mr Williams?" asked the doctor.

Dave stood up and grinned broadly. "Lead the way, Doc."

* * *

**DAVID MCNORRIS**

David sat on the couch, counting the minutes as they ticked by. He had checked out of the hotel and set himself up in his old bedroom, consciously not unpacking anything; he had no intention of staying a moment longer than he needed to. Over the last day or so, his siblings had politely dropped by to catch up with their big brother. They talked about sports – pretty much the only thing they had in common – punctuated by useless comments on the weather and long silences. Meanwhile, Sarah McNorris had taken to baking compulsively while giving her eldest son dating tips.

David couldn't wait for Jack to get home.

He gritted his teeth, imagining Fisher giving all the good cases to Thomas Paltrow. He had even started ringing Detective Stevens to see if there was anything at all the cops could use his legal muscle for, but Joel kept telling him to relax and enjoy his time off.

Relax? David laughed bitterly to himself as the smell of cookies wafted over from the kitchen. There was no such thing when Jack McNorris was involved.

David's phone began to ring and an inexplicable chill touched his spine. He shook his head to try to clear it, and looked down. Andrea again. "Got anything for me?" he asked warily.

"That depends," said Andrea grimly. "Maynard Delfino, son of Mike, just joined his dad in hospital."

David's jaw dropped. "How?" he was afraid to ask.

"Well, it seems the police are looking to press charges against a former Boston mayor. If he wakes up, that is."


	12. Jack McNorris again

**A/N:** Thanks to leat79 and KLCtheBookWorm for the reviews.

As you can probably tell, we're almost at the end of the road, which from a personal perspective is both fulfilling and a little sad. Reminds me of something Boomtown's Detective Bobby "Fearless" Smith taught me way back in the pilot episode: "You know what the French call orgasm? _La petite mort_. The little death." I namedropped Fearless' partner Joel in the previous David McNorris POV, so it was only fair that Fearless got a little piece of action, even if it was just in the author's note, right? :P

Anyway it wouldn't be a Desperate Housewives climax without a dose of craaaaaazyyyyyy, and (besides Crazy Dave himself) who better to supply it than...

* * *

**JACK MCNORRIS**

He was a little rusty these days, and the attack was a touch sloppy, but in the end a vicious left hook to the face and a sharp kick in the guts was all it had taken. A few more body blows and it was lights out for Mike Delfino.

Jack was surprised – and chuffed – at how quickly Delfino went down.

He was also continually amazed at how trusting some people were; turning on his old charisma had worked a charm on the voluptuous lady he met on Wisteria Lane. Maybe he should have asked for a martini, he thought. Shaken, not stirred. He smiled at his own joke.

As soon as he completed his mission at the old house, Jack checked into a nearby motel and went to bed.

He was still there just after noon the next day when the phone in his pocket began to ring again, waking him up. Jack grumbled and wiped the sleep from his eyes.

"Hello Fitz."

"You beat up some plumber at my house?!" Kerry yelled. "I've had cops questioning me!"

"What did you tell'em?"

"That I was visiting Cape Cod and didn't know anything about a plumber."

"Well, then you should be fine."

"I wasn't in Cape Cod!"

Jack rubbed his bearded chin pensively. "Can anyone verify that you weren't?"

"Jack, what the hell's going on?" Kerry's voice softened to a whimper. "Where are you?"

"I'm still in Fairview. The motel on the interstate."

Kerry Fitzpatrick arrived two hours later, looking frighteningly pale with his forehead bathed in sweat. He seemed to be shaking a little too. Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he let Kerry in and shut the door. "You been on the crack again? Getting a bit old for that crap, aren't you? What if the cops are still sniffing around you?"

"Shut up, Jack," snapped Kerry. "Tell me what's going on."

"I just needed a favour from an old friend," said Jack calmly.

"A favour?! Like 'I need to borrow one of your properties to assault a plumber'?!"

"Look, I thought it best for your sake if you didn't know the full story. But I'm doing it for my kid, Kerry." Jack sat him down and outlined, as briefly as he could, the story of Davey Dash and how the Delfinos had killed his family.

Kerry stared quietly at the floor for a minute. "So what now? You going back to Boston?"

Jack nodded. "Soon. Do you know a school called Oak Ridge?"

"Sure, it's a prestigious private school around here. Why?"

Jack chuckled unsmilingly. "Well, I spoke to one of Delfino's neighbours who told me his kid goes there. Must be earning a nice pay cheque."

Kerry sat up, his back rigid. "What are you up to, Jack? Don't do anything stupid; you're too old for that."

"I just wanna see him. Dave seemed to like him," said Jack. "And after all those times I saved your ass, I think you owe me a little leeway here, Fitz. Don't forget how you became Mayor."

Kerry nodded meekly. Mayor or not, he had always been smart enough to know who was really running the show. "When?"

Jack regarded him for a moment. "Tomorrow," he said at last. "Tonight we'll hit the bar like old times."

"I'm coming with you to the school," warned Kerry firmly. "In fact, I'll drive. I know the way."

The stubborn fool had been back at Jack's motel room at dawn, and they now sat together in Kerry's car, facing the playground area of Oak Ridge School and feeling like the Blues Brothers, except that they were both in grey suits. _We're on a mission from God_, Jack thought, almost laughing out loud.

Jack, for his part, had made sure they stocked up on alcohol on the way. Beer for Kerry, whiskey for Jack, and another six-pack of Sam Adams in the trunk for later. Drinking buddies and brothers in arms, just like the old days.

Jack scanned the kids in the playground as he took a swig of his bottle. "Wonder if MJ's out there," he murmured to himself. "Maybe I should go and ask around." From the corner of his eye, he saw Kerry drain his third Foster's and toss the bottle into the backseat with a satisfying clunk. "Fitz, I did bring a garbage bag, you know," he said with a smirk, and made to open the door.

Before Jack could leave the vehicle, another car pulled up in the space across from them, directly in front of the school. Jack hid the bottle in his lap and watched as a red haired woman climbed out of the other car with two paper bags. She didn't seem to notice the two men in the other car, however. Jack wound his window down slightly and adjusted his sunglasses.

"Katherine!" Jack's ear pricked up as a child's voice called out to the redhead and a little boy in school uniform ran towards the fence. Dave had said Katherine was the name of Mike's girlfriend. Jack wound the window down further and leaned his head out as much as he dared, trying to decipher what they were talking about.

"Can't hear a damn thing," he muttered and frowned, watching intently as Katherine pushed one of her paper bags through the bars of the fence.

"Angry broad, two o'clock," Kerry slurred beside him, as Jack saw a slender brunette march over to the fence where Katherine and the boy were crouched. Katherine stood up, and Jack licked his lips in anticipation of a cat fight.

"What the hell is going on here?!" the brunette screamed.

"Susan, hi!" Katherine faltered. _Susan_. Mike's ex-wife, according to Dave, and the woman responsible for the death of his family.

"That's him," Jack told Kerry. "That kid is MJ Delfino."

Susan stalked off towards the school building and Katherine scampered after her. Jack opened the car door.

"What are you doing, Jack?" asked Kerry anxiously.

"Just gonna talk to the kid," said Jack. "Relax. Have another beer." He stepped out and walked towards the boy who was dejectedly eating a sandwich.

"MJ?" said Jack cautiously, as the boy turned to face him.

"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," MJ replied, studying Jack's obscured face.

Jack knelt down, smiling faintly at the boy's innocent conviction. "I'm not a stranger, MJ. I wouldn't know your name otherwise, would I?"

As MJ Delfino answered Jack's questions about his family crap, there was something about his quiet articulation that stirred Jack's memories. Jack smiled softly. A few more Jamesons and he'd be able to look through that fence and see a young David Francis. Of all his sons, Jack knew he had probably been the harshest on David. Jack had rarely shied away from telling David Francis, often in graphic detail, exactly what it took to "fix" a guy. He hadn't just taught David Francis to spar; he made sure his son understood how it felt to be at the receiving end of a brutal punch. Sarah hadn't always approved but if David Francis was going to survive in the real world, it was important that he was brought up tough. Still, he had a soft, compassionate, emotional centre that he inherited from his mother and never really let go of.

MJ Delfino was that soft centre without the McNorris influence, but Jack sensed a certain steeliness in the kid that he approved of. Fancy-ass private school or not, MJ was resilient.

"Do you want to be able to fix things, MJ?" asked Jack. "Do you want to be able to make problems go away?"

"Yeah. I want to be able to fix everything. But I'm just a kid."

"We're all part of a bigger picture, MJ. You're going to help make everything right again, I promise."

Another kid in the playground called out to MJ, clutching what looked like a soccer ball under one arm and waving towards the fence with the other hand. Jack stood up with a heavy heart. "You better go. It was nice talking to you." He paused for the briefest of seconds, licking his dry lips. "Maybe we'll meet again in another life," he added.

Before he walked away, Jack closed his hands around the bars of the fence and gave it a firm shake. Just as he'd thought; it looked impressive, like a little prison, but it was purely aesthetic. It was just like pansy rich folk to choose design over substance, Jack thought with a little sneer.

Jack climbed back into the car and wound the window back up.

"We can go now?" Kerry asked hopefully. He seemed to have taken Jack's advice in downing another beer, and his red face and bloodshot eyes made him appear almost demonic.

Jack stared at the mass of kids kicking the ball around, his eyes drawn to MJ. "No. I'm waiting for the right opportunity."

"Right opportunity for what?"

Jack tore his glance from the school. "Look Kerry, I didn't want to put you in this position. You should get out of the car right now and forget all about the past few days."

"What are you talking about? This is my car, Jack, I'm not going anywhere."

Jack sighed. "Go home. Report your car stolen. I'm gonna drive this car into MJ Delfino so his parents can start to comprehend what they did to my boy."

Kerry gaped back at him in revulsion. "Y-You're crazy!" he spluttered. "I can't let you kill some kid!"

"You wouldn't have hesitated to let me kill a kid to further your career," Jack shot back. "Don't pretend that's not the honest-to-God truth."

Kerry stared back defiantly but Jack knew he had him. "I'm retired now, Fitz," Jack continued. "I don't work for the city anymore. But I've always worked for my family. I'll fix every damn thing I can for them until the day I die."

"Stop," Kerry ordered. He held his beer bottle by its neck and smashed its body against the steering wheel. Shards of glass scattered around the dashboard, along with a light sprinkle of beer. Kerry brandished the new weapon at Jack. "We're going home, Jack."

Jack looked down at the broken bottle and raised his eyebrows. "What do you think you're gonna do with that, Fitz? You never had the stomach to be a Fixer before. What makes you think you do now?" Kerry's hand began to waver, either due to self-doubt, alcohol, or a combination of both. "Gimme that," snorted Jack, reaching towards the bottle with his right hand.

Jack's hand squeezed around Kerry's hand and wrist. Kerry grunted and tried to wrestle out of Jack's grasp. Face unmoving, Jack tightened his grip like a vice. Kerry's free hand swung towards Jack, but was roughly intercepted. With his famous left hook, Jack fired an arsenal of blows into Kerry's head. With his right he threw Kerry's own hand, with the broken bottle still in it, into Kerry's face. The jagged edges of the bottle opened a deep gash in Kerry's face. Startled, Jack drew away from his friend as Kerry's body fell limply into the driver's seat.

Jack stared at the unconscious man raining blood. He closed his eyes and exhaled forcefully. Kerry Fitzpatrick was one of his oldest friends. It was important to take care of your friends, and that was exactly what Jack had always done. He'd gotten Kerry out of trouble countless times over the years and had tried to protect him as much as he could now. But the first rule of being a Fixer was simple: Never lose sight of the goal. The job came first.

When Jack opened his eyes again, he knew how to fix this.

He grabbed all the bottles he'd drunk, throwing them into the garbage bag that Kerry had neglected to use, and leaving Kerry's beer bottles on the backseat. With the bag over his shoulder, Jack got out of the car and walked around to the driver's side.

"Fitz?" Jack whispered. No answer. And no turning back. He looked around over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

Gingerly, Jack reached into the car, careful not to touch any of the shattered glass, and moved Kerry's heavy leg onto the accelerator pedal. Jack took another glance around. MJ was running towards the fence to retrieve the ball. "We're on a mission from God, Fitz," Jack said aloud.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled his jacket sleeve over his hand before turning the key in its ignition. The engine came to life with a sharp screech. In a fluid motion, Jack quickly released the handbrake and leapt away. The car shot off like a bullet and slammed through the school fence where MJ had been seconds earlier.

Amidst the ensuing commotion, Jack threw the garbage bag over his shoulder and slipped away from the scene.

* * *

**A/N:** Alright, alright... I think I've tortured KLC long enough. :P

Working on what will hopefully be a fitting finale now so you'll all finally find out if MJ's okay, among other things. Meanwhile reviews are love.


	13. Mary Alice Young

**A/N:** And here it is... the final chapter. Or as they say on Wisteria Lane, it ain't over 'til Mary Alice (or some other dead person) sings. And if they don't say that, they should.

Cheers to leat79 and KLCtheBookWorm for reviewing the last part.

* * *

**MARY ALICE YOUNG**

_Actions have consequences. A lifelong affection for the bottle leads to a diagnosis of liver disease. A sense of loyalty to your father drives you to find his long-lost love child. An absent father's burning guilt sees him attack an innocent child to avenge his son's family__…_

Susan screamed. "Oh my god! That's my baby! MJ? MJ! Oh my god, call 911!"

_Sometimes actions have ironic consequences. A senseless attack on your child is the catalyst for you to make amends with an adversary__…_

A hand touched Susan lightly on the shoulder. "Ambulance is on the way," Katherine said quietly.

Susan's lip quivered and she threw her arms around her old friend, sobbing. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Katherine held her tightly and together they prayed silently for MJ.

_Some people think they're beyond caring about the consequences of their actions…_

Collateral damage. It was a shame things had worked out the way they had, but Jack McNorris believed his friend had achieved everything he needed to in his life. For someone so full of talk and little else, Kerry Fitzpatrick had had an uncanny ability to avoid falling on the sword throughout his life – thanks mostly to Jack – and even Fitz must have understood that couldn't continue forever. There wasn't much else Kerry could contribute to anyone, but Jack still had work to do in whatever time he had left.

Jack turned the key in the lock and opened his front door. "Sarah, I'm home!" he called, as he was greeted by the scent of cupcakes in the oven.

"Jack!" Sarah burst into the hall and jumped into the arms of her husband, tears of joy and relief flowing down her cheeks. "Darling, where have you been?"

"Just… driving around," Jack replied, looking over Sarah's shoulder to see David Francis glaring frostily at him with a suitcase at his feet. "Hello, son."

"Hello, Pop," said David Francis coolly. "Head all clear now?"

The corner of Jack's mouth flinched slightly as he tried to analyse his son's expression. "Yes, thank you," he said.

"Good," David Francis replied, picking up the suitcase. "Well, I'd better go. I should be able to get a flight back to L.A. tonight." He walked over and kissed his mother on the cheek, his sharp blue eyes never leaving Jack's. "Love you, Mom."

"You're leaving already?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah, unfortunately the work keeps piling up. And Pop's back to take care of you, aren't you, Pop?"

"Absolutely," said Jack.

_But even the best calculation of one's actions often fails to take into account all the consequences…_

David McNorris let himself out of his parents' home and began to walk away.

"David Francis!"

David puckered his lips together and considered ignoring his father before spinning around irritably.

"What's the matter, son?" asked Jack, approaching him.

David stared at the ground, his jaw tight. "Mayor Fitzpatrick," he said softly. "I remember him, Pop. He was your first boss at City Hall, right? Your old drinking buddy." David looked up and met Jack squarely in the eye. "I remember him watching the Bruins and Celtics with us. I remember how you used to tease him about letting the big boys do all the hard work he'd never have the stomach for, while feeding off them to elevate his career. You weren't just talking about hockey or basketball either."

Jack tipped his chin back and frowned. "What's your point, son?"

David offered a sad almost-smile. "He's in a coma under police guard tonight. DUI… attempted murder… For his sake, it's probably better if he doesn't make it. Oh, and you know what, Mike Delfino was admitted to hospital a few days ago and now his kid's in intensive care." David took a menacing step towards Jack. "You didn't happen to spend the past few days in Fairview, did you?" Immediately, David held up his hand, shook his head and sniffed bitterly. "Actually, don't answer that, Pop. I don't want to know." David closed his eyes with a pained expression on his face, and began to walk away again.

"David Francis, if you have something to say, you damn well say it."

David halted. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath, angry tears welling in his eyes. "You better hope that kid pulls through, Pop," he spat, without turning around. "Maybe Dave Williams really is his father's son."

Jack didn't reply. David walked on and kept walking, wondering if he could ever face Jack McNorris again.

*******

MJ Delfino sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking around. "Wow," he mouthed in astonishment. He was surrounded by an endless field of white cotton candy. Hungrily, he ripped off a piece and let the sweet sticky floss dissolve in his mouth. As he looked up, he could see a shimmering golden light in the distance.

"MJ!"

The hollow, echoing voice came from somewhere far behind him but when he turned around, there was nothing but white fluff. He frowned, and started crawling in the direction of the light.

"MJ!"

MJ paused. "Mama?" His voice sounded small and tinny. He wondered where he was.

"MJ!"

MJ looked around for his mother but the only thing he could see was the golden light. It beckoned him closer, and he made his way towards it.

"MJ?"

MJ stopped. This new voice sounded familiar but it wasn't his mommy. It seemed to be coming from in front of him, where the light was. MJ crawled a little faster, trying to work out who it was.

"MJ, what are you doing here?" A beautiful woman with long blonde hair appeared in front of him, hovering gently above the candy field.

MJ looked up and blinked. "Edie?"

Edie Britt-Williams smiled warmly and nodded. "Fancy a girl like me being let through the pearly gates," she laughed, before growing serious. "But you shouldn't be here, MJ. Not yet."

"I'm looking for Mommy," said MJ, sitting back. "But I can't find her."

"That's because you're looking in the wrong place," Edie replied. She leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead. "Now go. Go home where you belong. It's not your time."

MJ grabbed one last handful of cotton candy and stuffed it into his mouth before the field and Edie and the golden light dissolved, and everything went black.

An unfamiliar voice rang out in the darkness. "He's got some bruising of the skull but no brain damage. He ought to make a full recovery."

"Thank God," gasped Susan's voice.

"…Mama?"

"MJ!"

MJ's eyes gradually flickered open to the relieved, tear-streaked faces of his mother, father, and Katherine standing over him.

Mike's face still bore some cuts and bruises, but he grinned brightly. "Good to see you awake," he said. He pointed to his arm, which was bound to his chest in a sling and cast, then at MJ. "You broke your arm too. Now we're gonna match."

MJ giggled.

Susan leaned over and kissed his head. "I love you so much, my baby."

"Edie just kissed me right in that same spot," said MJ.

The three grown-ups looked at each other in confusion. "Edie?"

"I saw her," MJ explained. "There was cotton candy everywhere and a yellow light but she said it wasn't my time."

Susan began to weep.

"Aw, don't cry, Mama," said MJ. He looked at Katherine, then back at his mother. "Are you and Katherine friends again?"

Katherine looked startled. Susan wiped her eyes.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" said Susan. "We've always been friends."

MJ raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Does anyone have my macaroons?" he asked sweetly.

*******

"Ah, Mr McNorris. This way." Dr Riviera forced himself to smile as Jack McNorris swaggered back into Boston Ridgegate Mental Hospital. It was just his luck that Dave Williams had found himself related to a nefarious pair like the McNorrises, thought Dr Riviera, as he led Jack to the observation room where Williams sat appropriately sedated.

"I'm seeing my son alone," Jack told him flatly. "No listening in either."

Riviera and McNorris regarded each other suspiciously before the doctor opened the door and Jack stepped into the room.

Dave looked up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Jack! It's good to see you again." They shook hands and Jack took the seat across from him as the door clicked shut behind them. Dave's face grew sober. "They 'assessed' me. They don't think I'm ready to leave."

Jack pursed his lips together. "You'll get out of here, Dave." David Francis hadn't been willing to test anyone's corruptibility after so long away from Massachusetts, but Jack knew there was no one in the world that couldn't be bought. Jack turned and glared at Riviera through the window before returning his gaze to Dave. "Meanwhile, I went to Fairview and did what you couldn't."

Dave blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Gave Mike Delfino a few bruises he won't forget. Had MJ hit by a car."

"MJ? Is he dead?!"

"He's in hospital," said Jack lightly. "For all I know, he'll be fine. But Susan will get the sickening fright of her life before she knows for sure, and she'll start to see what you went through."

Dave shook his head in wonder and gross fascination. "Why would you do a thing like that?"

"Because you couldn't and I'm your father."

"But you could go to jail!"

"I'll die first." Jack shrugged. "I'm a Fixer, remember? One who's never seen the inside of a prison, by the way, and I don't intend to start now." He wiped the smirk off his face and leaned forward slightly. "Look Dave, I was the man to call for assignments like this before you were even born. You never had to be a Fixer and you're probably a better person for it. But I knew, or learned early on, that the job has to be carried through to the end. You let your feelings get in the way because you didn't have to do what I had to my entire adult life."

Dave stared vacantly into the space between them, letting a deep silence fill it.

"Wow," he murmured at last, as he slowly drifted back to the present. Dave matched Jack's sardonic smile as blue eyes met blue eyes. "You're nothing like my dad."

**THE END...?  
**

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**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this along the way; this is probably the most complicated fiction piece I've ever attempted, and feedback is a particularly good motivator for multi-chapter fics. To anyone who might stumble across this story at a later date, I'm just as keen to hear what you think, whether it's good or bad... Honest critique will make me a better writer.


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